


The Morning After

by eleanor_lavish, thepsychicclam



Series: Valiant Effort [30]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-20
Updated: 2009-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-28 03:52:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleanor_lavish/pseuds/eleanor_lavish, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/pseuds/thepsychicclam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orlando ties up loose ends, and Dom and Elijah spend the day together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> Written by Clammy.

Elijah stuck his head into the dark bedroom and glanced around. There was a large lump in the middle of the bed, snoring and moving slightly. He walked across the room, threw open the curtains, and looked down through the window. Down below, Orlando’s mother stood beside the driveway as a large man stepped out of a long, black car. They exchanged a few words, then she led him into the house and out of Elijah’s sight. Another friend of Orlando’s father, he wagered. They’d been in and out for the past few days almost non-stop. Elijah never thought he’d meet so many stuffy, Englishmen in one place. Lord Bloom must have known them all.

A sound came from behind him, and he turned around to see a hand poking briefly from above the dark comforter before dropping down again. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of Dom’s snoring.

After a long night of too many cigarettes, beer, and Orlando's cute second cousin five times removed (or something like that), Elijah had accepted Dom's refusal to talk to him about the band, the two of them, or anything else after the funeral. Maybe he was taking the wrong approach – and then it hit him. Leaning against the balcony railing outside the room he slept in, after the cousin had left and all the beer bottles were empty, and taking a drag off the last cigarette in the pack, Elijah realized that somewhere along the line, he'd forgotten that once he and Dom were friends. The constant feelings of love, need, lust, want, disappointment, and rejection clouded the fact that somewhere, deep down, he really liked Dominic Monaghan as a person, not just as a thought.

So, when he woke that morning, he decided to do something he hadn't done in a long time. He was going to spend the day with Dom. As a friend.

Elijah walked over to the bed and jumped onto it heavily. Dom made an unintelligible sound and quickly shot up to his knees, hands up like he was warding off enemies. Elijah burst out laughing.

“What the fuck is that? Think you’re being attacked by big bad guys?” Elijah watched in amusement as realization dawned on Dom’s sleep-logged brain. First confusion, then a quick flicker of embarrassment before anger. Dom narrowed his eyes at Elijah. Elijah grinned.

“What in the _fuck_ are you doing in my room so early?” Dom growled, teeth bared. Elijah thought Dom was quite overreacting; it was nearly eleven.

“If I’m up, then you know it can’t be that early. What time did you get in the bed last night anyway?” Elijah stretched back against a pillow and laced his fingers behind his head. Dom was still up on his knees, glaring down at Elijah. But Elijah knew he could take it. Dom’s tantrums always amused him.

“Late. I went down to the pub with an old friend, got kinda fucked up, then stumbled in around four I think. Keywords in that story: _I think_.” Dom dropped down to the bed, and pulled his feet under him. He lifted one leg up slightly, stretching it. Elijah watched him quietly. He loved the way Dom slipped outside of reality when he did yoga, even if it were just these few morning stretch poses to center himself for the rest of the day. Dom had stopped doing any kind of yoga exercises the last few months. He didn’t like the idea of Dom giving up something he loved so much. But Dom was stretching his legs right there in front of him, and a peace came over Elijah.

The start to an overall good day.

“What exactly did you do last night to get you so fucked up?” Elijah asked curiously, sitting up and leaning closer to Dom. Dom then was doing some exercise that involved his neck and arms, but Elijah didn’t really understand what it was or how it could help. It just looked painful to him, and he was a flexible guy. Elijah had decided a long time ago that yoga wasn’t for him. Didn’t stop him from appreciating Dom while he did it though. And damn did he appreciate the way Dom’s eyes closed, the long, taut line of his neck, the way his muscles rippled easily beneath his skin.

Elijah shook his head and looked at Dom, who was saying something. Elijah only caught part of it.

“Huh?”

Dom opened his eyes and shot Elijah a look of annoyance. He let his eyes drift shut again as he sighed. “I _said_ , I met up with one of the guys I used to run around with, and he had a bag of some heavy shit, so we smoked that and popped a few pills.” He opened his eyes slowly and held Elijah’s gaze. “I know what you’re thinking. No, Billy doesn’t know, I know he won’t approve, that’s why you’re not going to tell him. And I know you’re disappointed because I said I’d try to stop, and I am, but dude, I couldn’t say no to that shit. Plus, he’s my mate. You can’t say no to a mate.”

Elijah blinked. Dom had never justified his actions before, not without Elijah harping on and on about how stupid Dom was being (which was more often than not). But Elijah felt like something was different in his tone, something almost…apologetic.

“I didn’t say a word,” Elijah said, holding his hands up in a sign of peace. “And you know I won’t tell Billy. Besides, I don’t think he’ll really care. Not after last night.”

“Why, what happened last night?” Dom got off the bed and bent down to pick his jeans up off the floor.

“I’m not sure, but I couldn’t sleep last night, so I decided to wander around this place, which is like a maze by the way, and got lost. I heard voices, so I followed them, and then I heard a door slam, and um…” Elijah trailed off, and looked up at Dom.

“Why, Elijah Wood! Are you blushing?” Dom asked gleefully. He hopped back onto the bed. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? Did Billy and Orlando finally fuck?”

“Dom!” Elijah exclaimed. “These are our friends we’re talking about!”

“Yeah, so? What should I say? Did they finally profess their love in physical and intimate ways?” Dom said mockingly.

Elijah bit his lip, feeling extremely awkward. He lowered his eyes for fear that Dom would be able to read something in them. Dom could always read his eyes better than anyone else.

“Elijah,” Dom said, voice softer. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Did they finally have sex? Because god knows it’s been coming for way too long. I’m surprised they held out this long. Billy must have balls of steel.”

Elijah giggled despite the unpleasant feeling settling in his stomach. “Maybe they were just making out, but last time I had a heavy make-out session with someone, I didn’t quite make those noises. But who knows, maybe Orlando is a great kisser.”

“Eh, he’s not that great,” Dom said, dismissively waving a hand in the air. Elijah lifted an eyebrow, and Dom smiled cheekily. “Orlando and I have been friends for about eight years. When he decided he was gay, we, um, kinda made sure.” Elijah felt his eyes go wide. “It was his idea, not that I minded, of course. But he had hooked up with some guy, I don’t remember his name, not even sure Orlando would remember – “

“Eric,” Elijah interrupted. At Dom’s expression, Elijah elaborated. “Orlando and I had a conversation once about our firsts. He told me his name was Eric.”

“Why have we never had this conversation?” Dom asked, momentarily forgetting about Orlando. “You mean Orlando knows the identity of the first guy you had sex with and he hasn’t even had sex with you? I feel this is something I should know.”

“Um, okay,” Elijah said. “His name was Josh. He was this guy in the marching band. We were on an overnight trip to the state football championship. It was outside by the pool. It was my senior year and I was almost eighteen.”

“You mean you lost your virginity not even four years ago?” Dom exclaimed. “Wow.”

“Fuck you,” Elijah spat. “What about you?”

“I was fourteen and her name was Shannon. It was in the tree house in her backyard. First time with a guy was when I was sixteen, and his name was Luke. We were at his house after a rave.”

“Don’t I feel like a geek for losing my virginity on not only a school trip, but a marching band trip." Elijah's cheeks burned and he looked away quickly.

"You know, no one ever thinks that geeks get it on, but that's where they're mistaken. Geeks have hot sex just like popular people. They just have sex with each other. Kinda like in _American Pie_ ," Dom said, nodding. Elijah blinked.

"Thanks, Dom. That makes me feel oh so better," he said sarcastically.

"It's true, Elwood. Just look at you. You're the biggest geek I know. You have an entire collection of near-mint _Fantastic Four_ and _Spiderman_ comics in a box in the apartment, you sit for hours in internet cafes when you have the money surfing those damn indie music websites, you've seen _Star Wars_ so many times you can quote it while the TV's on mute, complete in the voices might I add, and don't think I didn't see all those action figures in your bedroom at home." Dom's eyes sparkled as he grinned over at Elijah, whose cheeks were burning in embarrassment. He wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. "And despite all that," Dom continued, "you still have sex more than Orli, Billy, and me combined."

"There is nothing wrong with my comics and _Star Wars_! Besides, how would we know what's going on in the rest of the music business if it wasn't for me? MTV doesn't count as music knowledge, Sblom."

"I do _not_ watch MTV!" Dom said, horrified. "Well, okay, I watch MTV sometimes, but I definitely do not base any opinions on that mainstream crap."

Elijah shook his head, unconvinced. "Whatever. How many geeks do you that are in rock bands? Huh? Maybe I'm not so geeky after all."

"Oh no, you're geeky," Dom said, getting off the bed and grabbing a near-empty package of cookies from the desk. He plopped back onto the bed and offered the bag to Elijah. Elijah took one and put the whole thing in his mouth. The cookie was stale. "You just hide your geekiness well. All that eyeliner and those little, tight t-shirts. Not that I'm complaining." Dom winked. "But that doesn't change the fact that you're a geek."

"So you've told me many times before."

"But I like you this way. You’re my geeky Elijah. It works." Dom grinned and stuffed another cookie in his mouth, crumbs falling all over his bare chest. "Now, why are we arguing about this?"

"Fuck if I know. You can finish telling me about you and Orlando now," Elijah said, interested.

"Oh that." Dom shrugged. "Orlando and I gave each other blowjobs, god, a long time ago. No big deal. We were best mates, and it meant nothing. After we got done, we just laughed, popped open a few beers, and watched a football game on the telly."

"Dude," Elijah whispered. He'd never thought that Orlando and Dom had ever been together, and he didn't like the prick of jealousy that arose. But he knew it was stupid, because Orlando loved Billy more than anything, and Orlando and Dom would kill each other if they ever actually dated. It just seemed like everywhere he turned he found reminders of Dom, Billy, and Orlando's past life, a life with each other, a life without him.

"So," Dom said, standing back up and grabbing a Man-U t-shirt draped over a chair. Since their arrival in England, Dom had worn almost nothing but beat up Man-U shirts and Manchester or London underground band tees. Elijah thought they were the coolest shirts and wanted to steal them all. "Why did you wake me up?" Dom asked, pulling the shirt over his head. "You have something planned. You only grin the way you did earlier when you have a plan. I'm not sure whether to be scared or excited."

"It's not a big plan!" Elijah watched as Dom picked up his two worn wrist cuffs, snapped one and laced the other. "I want you to show me around."

"What do I look like? A fucking tour guide?" Dom put his hand on his hip, and Elijah couldn't help but giggle.

"No, but you know your way around. I don't. I want to see England through the eyes of a true Brit."

"Only way to see it, mate. But this isn't Britain. It's just Canterbury. That's different." Dom toed on his loafers – which Elijah found extremely hideous, even on Dom – and looked at Elijah expectantly. "Well, are you ready?"

Elijah grinned widely. "Let me go get my jacket."

*

Orlando didn't want to open his eyes, because that would mean being awake, which meant night was over, which in turn meant this would all end. Instead, he inhaled deeply and rubbed his cheek lightly against Billy's chest. The hair tickled his skin, and Billy smelled of sweat, sex, and his favorite cologne that he'd worn ever since the first night Orlando met him. Billy was comfortable like that – ritualistic, dependable. Orlando always knew he'd order Guiness when they went out, liked only pepperoni and green peppers on his pizza, would always give Orlando all the cinnamon doughnuts because he hated cinnamon worse than anything else (save maybe the band when they fucked around too much when Billy wanted to work), and always, _always_ wore the same cologne. There was never a question whether or not Orlando liked the scent – it was Billy and that's all there was to it.

He still hadn't processed the previous night's events. If it wasn't for the fact that he was lying with Billy's arms loosely encircling him, or that he felt the familiar sting when he moved that proved Billy had actually been there, then he might not have believed any of it was true. It was almost like one of his fantasies – the ones in which Billy gave in to him and admitted how much he loved him, then pushed him down to the bed and made love to him all night. Substitute a sticky leather couch, neither of them thinking as they made their way from the kitchen to the room, and what actually happened was that fantasy. Maybe a little less sappy, but Orlando was a realistic bloke and knew that if Billy would have done what he'd wanted, he'd have checked to see if it really was Billy behind those eyes.

But it _had_ happened. And Orlando still waited for it to be a dream. He didn't know if he'd ever really believe it, not even after he and Billy had woken up and kissed and done whatever happens next. Because how do you process something like that, finally having the one thing you've wanted for years? How did Elijah do it, he wondered. But Orlando secretly hoped he wouldn't have the same kind of experience with Billy that Elijah did with Dom. He knew that if Billy ever treated him like Dom had treated Elijah, then there'd be lots of fists and blood flying.

But Billy wasn't like Dom – and that's one reason that Orlando loved Billy so much. Dom was the best friend he'd ever had, but he knew way before watching him with Elijah that Dom was hell to be in a relationship with. Elijah was only further proof.

Orlando didn't know what was going to happen when Billy woke up. He knew what he wanted – Billy to finally stop running away from him, god how he wanted that – but he doubted that would happen. Orlando had been upset because of his father and Billy had been sympathetic – that was all. And Orlando couldn't get his hopes up that anything would come of this.

That's why he never wanted to wake up.

When Orlando woke up the next time, he was alone. A sudden panic filled his body. _Oh god, Billy woke up, realized what happened, and now regrets it._ He looked around, frantically. Their clothes sat in a neat pile in one of the large leather armchairs, different from their earlier disarray on the floor. Billy's pants were missing. He had left his boxers, shirt, shoes, and socks with Orlando's clothes.

Orlando took that as a good sign.

Instead of getting up to find Billy, he stayed on the couch. He became extremely aware of his lack of clothes and pulled the soft blanket around him even tighter. The room felt frigid; this damn old house was always colder than any other house. And sitting in the room made it seem large and empty.

A few minutes later, when Orlando was trying to smooth his curls down but having very little luck, Billy opened the door, carrying two steaming cups of coffee. Orlando laughed.

"What's so funny?" Billy handed Orlando a steaming cup before setting his own down on the table.

"My mother would not approve of your disregard for our priceless furniture."

Billy stood up and started looking around for a coaster, but Orlando grabbed his back pocket and pulled him down onto his lap, laughing.

"I'm just fucking with you. I don't give a toss if you ruin all the furniture in the house. Anyone who buys furniture you can't live with is fucking stupid."

Billy shifted on Orlando's lap with a look of concern on his face. He glanced back at his coffee cup resting on the end table, then turned back to Orlando with a smile.

"Good morning," Billy said, kissing Orlando softly on the mouth. "You still didn't tell me what was so funny. I mean, I know that my hair is pretty unruly, but it didn't deserve that kind of reaction." He pinched Orlando's side playfully.

"Um, it's stupid," Orlando answered. Billy tutted, and to Orlando's surprise, moved around on top of him until he had his jeans off. Then he tossed them on the floor.

"I really hate the way trousers feel against your goods. Not natural. I don't see how Dom does it. I like the feel of soft cotton against my jewels." Orlando shot Billy an amused expression. The whole morning was amusing him. "Now Orlando Bloom, are you going to tell me what is so funny, or am I going to have to go to extreme measures to find out?" Billy tried to pull the blanket from between their bodies to cover himself, but it was stuck. "Bloody blanket hog."

"When I woke up this morning," Orlando began, unable to keep the silly grin off his face, "and you weren't here, I thought…" Orlando trailed off, knowing now how absurd he sounded. But Billy's eyes were soft, and he cupped Orlando's face, stroking the pad of his thumb against his cheekbone.

"I'm old. I need my caffeine or I can't work in the mornings."

"You're not old!" Orlando protested. "Sure didn't act old last night," he added, cupping Billy's ass with his hands and squeezing.

Billy blushed. "Well, that was different. It wasn't morning. Besides," Billy paused, a grin on his face, "I couldn't let your youthful enthusiasm go unreturned. Had to prove myself."

"You did that all right." Orlando laid his head back against the armrest of the couch. Billy's body was so warm against his own, so heavy, and his own morning erection was pressed snugly against Billy's. But there was no urgency; he could have lain like that forever.

"I thought this would be weirder," he said suddenly.

"I almost didn't come back with coffee," Billy admitted. "But I couldn't bear the thought of not being with you this morning." He sighed and lay his face down against Orlando's shoulder. He kissed it lightly. Orlando reached down and threaded his fingers through Billy's hair, noting how soft the strands felt between his fingers.

"I woke up earlier," Orlando said quietly. "I don't want this to end."

"Orlando – "

"I know," Orlando said, wrapping his one arm tighter around Billy's body. "I know."

*

"Dom! Dom!" Elijah shouted from between two close rows of musty, used coats. His eyes watered and he smelled faintly of mothballs. "Dom!"

"What?" Dom said, coming up behind Elijah. Elijah spun around and held up a jacket. Dom looked unimpressed. "Okay."

"It's fucking fantastic!" Elijah exclaimed, stroking the soft fabric. The jacket had been wedged between a green velvet sports coat and a blue kimono. Elijah first noticed the buttons, large, round, and a deep chocolate brown. Then the tan corduroy sleeve. When he pulled it off the hanger, he instantly fell in love with the vintage tan corduroy blazer. When he slipped it on, the silk lining had felt like ten thousand fingertips caressing his skin. And when he looked in the mirror, the jacket over his Smashing Pumpkins t-shirt, the hem stopping along the hips of his worn and holey blue jeans, and the dirty black converse on his feet, it all seemed _just right_.

He'd found the One Jacket to end all jackets.

"This jacket! Isn't it perfect?" Elijah turned back around and hurried over to the wall mirror flanked on one side by rows of vintage blue jeans, handbags on the other. He slipped it on again, marveling at how perfect it fit, as if it was made for him and him alone.

"Wow," Dom said, his reflection appearing behind Elijah in the mirror. "That actually looks fucking brilliant on you. Fuck." He ran his hands over the shoulders and down the sleeves, admiring it as much as Elijah. "Is it expensive?"

"Fifty pounds. I don't care, I've got to have this jacket."

"No, you must get it. You can't not get it." Dom took a last look at Elijah in the mirror, then disappeared. Elijah reluctantly slid the jacket off his shoulders and went after Dom. He found him nestled in the middle of a row of jackets. Elijah poked his head over Dom's shoulder.

"I don't like it."

"Did I ask your opinion, Elwood?" Dom asked, but there was no real irritation in his voice. "You're right. It's terrible." Dom put the jacket back on the rack and pulled out another.

"You should always listen to me. A gay man always knows fashion," Elijah joked, resting his head on Dom's shoulder, though he had to rise up on his tiptoes to do so.

"Then you give gay men everywhere a bad name," Dom retorted.

"Oh my god." Elijah rolled his eyes as Dom pulled another jacket off the rack. "Like you can say anything about fashion. This coming from the man who wore a blue suit to his best friend's dad's funeral and a gold dinner jacket on stage."

"You should try it sometime. It's something called _style_."

"Yeah, it's something called _tacky_."

"That gold dinner jacket was fucking brilliant. I had women all over me that night."

"They were all drunk. And hos."

"Who got fucked that night, huh?" Dom pulled a black jacket off the rack and held it up.

"Neither of us, remember? Billy decided that he wanted to rip us all a new one after the show because we fucked something up on stage, so we all ended up going home pissed off."

"Oh yeah," Dom said, taking the jacket off the hanger and slipping it on. "I sat on the roof and got stoned."

"Dom, you do that most nights."

"But I specifically remember this one. There was this bloke on the street getting arrested. Billy and I sat out there and watched it, and Billy actually smoked an entire joint. Was wild man."

"If you say so." Elijah watched as Dom moved around in the coat, testing it out. He followed him over to a mirror. "I like this one." The jacket was black with an array of zippers and brown leather patches around the collar. On anyone else, the jacket would be hideous; on Dom, it worked. "I think you should get it."

"Me too. Now we just need a gig so we can wear these things."

 

*

Orlando glanced back over his shoulder as he pulled his trousers on. Billy sat on the couch, folding the blanket. He lifted his eyes, catching Orlando's gaze, and smiled.

"Are you ever going to finish getting dressed?" Billy was fully clothed, but Orlando was taking his precious time. Every moment seemed like another reminder that when they left the room, things would go back to normal. Orlando tugged his shirt over his head and tried not to think of how Billy's mouth had been around his cock not fifteen minutes ago.

"Dressed now," Orlando said, crossing the short distance between them and leaning down to kiss Billy on the lips again. They were so warm and soft, and morning stubble scratched his face. Orlando pulled away, but stayed close to Billy's face. "Thank you, for everything."

Billy's eyes narrowed and he stared at Orlando in confusion. "For what? Shagging you?"

"No. Well, yes, but," Orlando sat on the couch beside Billy and took his hand. "I haven't said thank you for dropping everything – your life, your job – and coming back here with me. It means a lot to have you here. All three of you, because I couldn't have done any of this without you."

"Yes, you could have. You're stronger than you think, Orlando." Billy squeezed Orlando's hand gently. "But you're welcome. We're a unit, the four of us. Where one goes, the rest follow. I've just accepted it."

Orlando smiled and nodded his head.

"Now, are we done sharing our feelings? Because honestly, this is more than I've shared in probably ten years. I think it's starting to give me a headache." Billy chuckled and Orlando reached over quickly and kissed him once more.

"Yes, we're done," Orlando said as he pulled away. They stared at each other for a few moments, then Orlando got up. "I've got to go find Sam. She wanted to go through some of our father's things before she went back to London."

"I've got to talk to Sean. See if we still have a band, a contract, a CD…" Billy trailed off, looking slightly worried.

"We do! They're not going to fuck us over because of these extenuating circumstances," Orlando said, closing the door to the study behind him.

"This is Bean we're talking about," Billy said.

"Have faith! And if he fucks us over, we can stick Viggo on him. Fuck if I'd want a crazed and pissed off Viggo coming after me in a dark alley."

*

"Want to go get a drink? I know this great little pub." Elijah rubbed his hands up and down the sleeves of his jacket for the hundredth time. He had put it on the moment they left the shop, and he'd been obsessed with it ever since. Dom had put his on like it was nothing special; Elijah could swear that Dom kept bumping up against him to get a touch of his jacket though.

"Aren't I supposed to be the one showing you around? I'm the tour guide of this group."

"I found this place the other day. Bartender is awesome."

"Oh, do you have a crush, widdle Elijah?" Dom cooed. In a fit of frustration, Elijah darted across the street right before a bus rushed past. He waited for Dom on the curb, trying to ignore his last remark.

"Are you trying to get yourself fucking killed?" Dom shouted as he jogged up.

"Does everything have to be a joke with you? Or about sex?" Elijah snapped. He ran a hand through his messy hair, knocking his glasses with his arm. Dom just stared at him evenly, and that irritated him even more. "The bartender is a woman. And unless this jacket magically made me straight, I still like cock. Some people can appreciate a person without thinking about how hot they are or how good they'd be in bed. She's just cool, that's all." Elijah kicked a stone clear across the street and walked a few steps ahead of Dom.

"Whatever," Dom muttered.

Elijah led them into _The Looking Glass_ , and just like the last time he was there, it was practically empty.

"There is no one here, Elijah," Dom said as they stepped inside. He looked around the empty bar, unimpressed.

"That's because Elijah can't seem to stop drinking midday." Cate stepped from the back and gave them both a wide, warm smile. "Let me guess. You're Dom."

"The awesome bartender?" Dom asked Elijah. He stuck his hand out to Cate, who grabbed it firmly. "Dominic Monaghan. Nice to meet you. Sorry you had to meet this guy first; there's no telling what kind of lies he said about us."

"Ah, he's okay." Cate glanced at Elijah and winked. "First pint's on the house."

Dom wandered to the back of the room to find a table while Elijah waited for Cate to fill the mugs.

"So, that's the Dom, huh?" Cate asked.

Elijah nodded, watching Dom's retreating back. Even though neither of them had spent a day together that didn't end in one of them storming out in a rage in months, this wasn't helping Elijah separate his feelings. The lines between friends and lovers were becoming blurrier with each minute.

"Yes, that's Dom." He sighed and turned back to Cate.

"He's cute." She handed him the mugs with a sympathetic smile.

Elijah carried the mugs back to a table in the corner. Dom took the glass and closed his eyes as he took a long drink.

"Bloody fantastic. So," Dom said, opening his eyes, "what have you been saying about me behind my back?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"Nothing to feed that ego of yours." Elijah set their bags on the seat between them, rummaged inside of one, and pulled out a CD. "I can't believe you bought this shit."

"Excuse me," Dom snapped, grabbing the CD from Elijah's hand, "The Streets is not _shit_. It is gold. You're just not British enough to understand. They're from Manchester; I have to support my hometown boys. And if you're back there and know The Streets, people look at you with respect, man. They're fucking intense."

"Intense?" Elijah stared at Dom. "With lyrics like: _Chatting shit, sitting at the wall table telling jokes playing with the salt, looking out the window. Girl brings two plates of full english over with plenty of scrambled eggs and plenty of fried tomato_ ," he finished in a faux-British accent. "Yes, Dom. That's some intense shit right there."

Dom blinked. "You're the one that knows the lyrics. And can I say your British accent is fucking awful. I thought living with two Brits, you might pick up something. Guess I was wrong there."

"The only reason I know the lyrics to that piece of shit song is because you used to blast it in the afternoons when you made dinner. Can I tell you how fucking hard it is to study while listening to some British wanna-be thug rapping?" Elijah rolled his eyes and took a swig of his beer.

"Shut up, Mr. Emo. With all that whiny shit you listen to, I'm surprised you have enough will to put in a CD every morning. All that Dashboard Confessional shit."

"I _do not_ listen to Dashboard," Elijah said hotly.

"Mogwai or whatever." Dom waved his hand dismissively.

"Mogwai are fucking fantastic," Elijah said, gesturing emphatically. "You can't sit there and call yourself a serious musician and deny that they're one of the best bands to hit the indie scene in quite awhile."

Dom tried to keep a straight face, but soon cracked a smile and chuckled briefly before covering it up with a fake cough. "I love it when you get into "music-god-Elijah" mode. It's so cute." Dom took a sip of his beer, set it back on the table with a look of deep concentration on his face, then glanced up at Elijah. "They're okay. Especially if you're stoned. I don't deny their talent, but just not my thing." He shrugged.

"But they're similar to Sigur Ros, which I know for a fact that you listen to and _like_. Billy gave you one of their cds for your birthday."

"They're cool; they're from Iceland. Most artists from Iceland are cool: Sigur Ros, Bjork, Emiliana Torrini."

"Mogwai are from Scotland," Elijah pointed out.

"Hey! Like Billy," Dom joked, then drained the rest of his beer and slammed it on the table. Elijah just shook his head.

*

Orlando walked into the kitchen and found Sam sitting on one of the barstools, eating a bowl of cereal. He checked the clock; 11:47.

"You're up late," he said, motioning towards the bowl.

"Actually, this is my lunch. I'm on that cereal diet while I'm here. Cereal for breakfast and lunch, then a sensible dinner."

Orlando stopped and stared at her. "You can't be serious. You're a fucking walking stick as it is."

"Orlando! You of all people should know that all a woman has is her figure. And her money. And if she has both, then that's even better." Sam grinned and took another bite of cereal. Orlando opened the refrigerator and pulled out a plate of chocolate cake. He set it down in front of her, scooped a big chunk onto a fork, and put it in his mouth while making "mmm" noises. "Go ahead and eat that. But when you're fat and poor, don't come crying to me."

"You're so vain sometimes, it's almost uncharacteristic, even for this family." Orlando pulled one of the barstools towards him and sat down.

"You look happy," Sam said after a few minutes. "What happened last night?"

Orlando stared at the plate and shook his head. "Nothing happened."

"You're lying. Shouldn't you know by now that you can't lie to me? I always know. Let me see. What would make my baby brother so happy that it overshadows his one man dramatic grief show?"

"Hey!" Orlando shouted.

"Oh my god!" Sam squealed. "You got laid last night!" She clapped her hands together in glee. "Who was it?"

"I did not get laid last night," he lied. He took another bite of cake.

"You totally fucked Billy, didn't you?" Sam leaned across the counter, eyes boring into him.

"No!"

"You totally did." Sam squealed in delight. "I am so happy for you! Both of you! It's about time you fucked each other silly."

"I hate you. A lot."

"Pishposh." Sam rolled her eyes. "I've done far worse things to warrant your hatred. So, what is the deal between you two?"

Orlando decided it was pointless to continue the charade, so he shrugged. "Nothing. It's just that. We had sex."

Sam stared at him. "That's it?" She dropped her spoon with a loud clang. "You mean to tell me that you two have been mooning over each other like two angsty teenagers for years and then you finally fuck, and it's _nothing_." She scoffed. "That is totally not nothing. That is something. I know you. It's something."

"It's nothing." Orlando tried to believe that himself. "I mean, it can't be anything." He shifted uneasily on the stool and pushed chocolate cake around with his fork absently. "Between the trouble with the band, the funeral, and everything else, it kinda just…happened. We lost ourselves." Orlando looked up, no longer trying to hide his emotions from her. "I'm not going to lie. Yes, I wish that last night means Billy and I can _finally_ be together. Fuck knows that's the only thing I've wanted since I met the bloke. But…if I know anything, I know Billy. And from this morning, I know exactly what's going through his head."

"And what's that?" Sam asked softly.

"Part of him is as elated as I am. The other part, the part that controls Billy Boyd most of the goddamn time, that part is freaking the fuck out."

"Why?"

"Because," Orlando said loudly, banging his fist on the counter. "Because with the band in the fucking mess it's in right now, there is no way Billy is going to put any thought or energy into anything but keeping us together."

"Not even you?"

Orlando stared at the counter. "Least of all me. Valiant Effort is everything to him. It's all he cares about."

"That's not true," Sam said suddenly. She reached out and put her hand over his awkwardly, catching Orlando by surprise. "Just because you two aren't setting up house together doesn't mean he doesn't care about you, or Dom and Elijah for that matter. And if _I_ know Billy Boyd, just the fact that he let himself have sex with you last night, well, that says a lot."

Orlando nodded and tried not to think about what that meant for him.

*

Elijah shifted his bag to his other hand and flexed the free one. Even though he only had one bag with a few CDs, a new cigarette lighter, a vintage leather cigarette case, and a few belts and second-hand tees he'd bought at various shops, his hand was tired of toting the freaking bag. Dom looked just as uncomfortable with his bag, but then again, Dom did spring for the vintage black boots. Those things looked like they weighed a ton.

He thought it was funny that everything they'd bought all day had been used. Not that any of it had been super cheap, trendy vintage shops in touristy towns were never "cheap"; cheap was the Goodwill or Salvation Army back in Iowa where used CDs were a dollar and t-shirts "fill a bag for fifty cents". But Dom had insisted they buy the things they wanted, and had shelled out ten quid here and thirty quid there for the items in the bags. Unless Dom was dealing drugs again, which Elijah highly doubted, he'd gotten the money from Orlando. And well, Elijah was okay with letting Dom spend money on him. Even if it was Orlando's money.

Finally, Elijah saw a bench and hurried over to it. Paint chipped off the thin slats, and old newspapers and empty soda cans littered the sidewalk beside it. The only view it offered was of a stoplight, a noisy pub, high stone wall, and line of small shops, but Elijah plopped down gratefully. They were still quite far from Orlando's neighborhood, but Elijah still hadn't seen all he wanted.

He pulled a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and offered one to Dom. He lit the tip with his new lighter, then handed it over. Inhaling deeply, he glanced around the city, the cool air blowing around them gently, and smiled. He couldn't believe he was actually sitting in an English town, watching the sky grow darker as the cars rushed by on the opposite side of the road and the strong scent of fish and chips wafted from the small restaurants.

Two days ago, he'd been miserable, wondering why in the _hell_ he'd even boarded the plane. But now? He'd just had an incredible day with Dom – complete with no fighting and no sex – and he was content just to be sitting there enjoying a cigarette in silence.

"You're really amazed at all this, aren't you?" Dom asked. Elijah turned his head and realized that Dom had been watching him all this time.

"Yeah," he answered, nodding as he looked around. "I've only been to Iowa, New York, and then LA once when I was very young. It was to an audition for a commercial. Mom wanted me to be an actor. I think I was five."

Dom dropped his hand to his knee and stared at Elijah in surprise. "No way! I didn't know that. You, an actor? That's kind of laughable really." Dom winked and poked Elijah in the side affectionately. "I'm just fucking with you."

"I've been in a few commercials. Potato chips, juice, that kind of thing." Dom didn't try and hide his snickering, and Elijah couldn't help but giggle himself. "Dad didn't want to move to California, and he didn't really want me in commercials and he sure as hell didn't want me in movies. I tried out for a movie role once, but he refused to let me be part of it." Elijah shrugged and took a drag off the clove. "So," he said, exhaling smoke as he spoke, "it's just kind of surreal to be all the way in another country. I mean, just to be sitting here watching the sun go down while everything happens around me. It's just fucking fantastic."

"I've been in and out of this town for the past ten years. I've come home with Orli so many times that it just isn't anything special anymore. Never was, actually. Just was Canterbury, where Orlando was from. Kinda like Manchester is just where I'm from. Nothing but another town." Dom tossed the butt onto the sidewalk and stomped it out with the toe of his shoe.

"It should be special though," Elijah said. "Because it's full of memories for you and Orlando. And that should mean something."

Dom stared at Elijah, then smiled softly. "Sometimes you surprise me. You can be absolutely right, but still a little maudlin. I guess though, a little sentimentality isn’t so bad." Dom stood up and grabbed both their bags. "Come on, let's go and take the bus cross town."

Elijah followed a step or two behind Dom, chewing his lip. Something felt different. He didn't know if it was the English sunset or spending the day with Dom or some carry-over from the funeral. Elijah just knew that he felt different. Things seemed clearer, even though he couldn't really see anything at all. He had no clue where any of them were going, what was going to happen, what he was going to be doing come tomorrow, two weeks, or two months from now. But he did know one thing; he missed Dom and this was the nicest day he'd had in he couldn't remember how long. The most surprising thing was that Elijah had spent an entire day with Dom, and there had been no romantic undertones to anything. They were just Elijah and Dom. Friends. Like it used to be. The way it was before everything got so fucked up in both their lives.

Elijah followed Dom onto the bus. They took two seats in the very back near a punk with a purple Mohawk and a mother and her small child. When they were settled, bags crammed under their feet, Elijah watched Dom out of the corner of his eye. Dom stared out of the window, silently mouthing the words to some unheard song. His eyes were far away, and Elijah wanted to speak, pull Dom's attention away from the window, bring him back to the present and ask him where he was. Elijah wanted to be part of that far-off place Dom's thoughts strayed.

"Dom," Elijah said suddenly. He wanted to beg Dom to take him wherever he had just been. Tell him how much he missed days like this, days where they laughed and teased and paid attention to nothing but each other. Wanted to make Dom understand that he wanted him in his life in any form, and that he'd settle for his best friend, if only it'd allow him to see his face every day.

But when Dom turned, blinking his eyes slowly as he focused on Elijah, Elijah couldn't make the words come out. Instead, he smiled.

"Nothing."

Dom draped an arm around Elijah and pulled him close. Elijah laid his head on Dom's shoulder and closed his eyes. It wasn't Dom and Friday night dates and stolen kisses on his way to the kitchen, but it was better than nothing.

"Want some?"

Elijah opened his eyes and saw Dom holding a small flask.

"Sure." Elijah discreetly took a large swig. Dom shifted and slipped the flask into his pocket. The liquor warmed Elijah's body, making his arms and legs tingle. Elijah dropped his head back to Dom's shoulder.

"You know," Dom whispered, face turned into Elijah. "I was never going to leave the band."

"I always knew you weren't," Elijah whispered back.

*

The small sitting room was so dark that Orlando couldn't see a thing when he stepped inside. After his eyes adjusted, he saw his mother sitting on a long, deep maroon velvet couch with the heavy matching curtains drawn behind her. With his hands out in front of him just in case, Orlando made his way to a chair adjacent to the couch.

"Isn't it a little dark in here?" Orlando asked. He reached beside him and turned on the table lamp. Sam entered at that moment and rushed across the room to sit beside her mother.

"Well, what did the bastard leave us?" Sam asked frankly.

"Samantha!" Orlando shouted, glaring at her. "Don't you have any decency?"

"That's why we're here, isn't it?" Sam got up and walked over to the small liquor cabinet on the far wall. Orlando realized just how many individual liquor cabinets there were in the house. No wonder his mother was a borderline alcoholic. "To find out what was in the will and what fortune he left us." Sam poured whiskey into three glasses and brought them back.

"What makes you think we're here for that?" Orlando asked, taking the glass from Sam. He knocked it back in one go.

"Mom's been with the barrister all day. What's his name? John Rhys-Davies or something."

"That's correct." Orlando's mother turned to them, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Orlando noticed that she looked like she'd been crying for hours.

"What's wrong, Mom?"

"We have a slight problem," she said, her voice shaking. Orlando steeled himself for whatever bad news was coming. At this point though, nothing surprised him.

"It seems that your father had a few debts," she continued.

"What kind of debts?" Sam asked.

"I'm not exactly sure. You know I don't understand a lot of that stuff. The business hasn't been doing so well the last few years. Even though he acted like he had plenty of money, your father was losing money."

"Okay, so what does that mean?" Sam asked angrily.

"He didn't leave us very much. A little money for each of you children, a little money for me, but it's just…it's just not enough for me to live on." She started crying again and buried her face in the handkerchief.

"I knew it," Sam scoffed. "What a fucking asshole. Not only does he fucking die, he leaves us nothing. What are you supposed to do, Mom? Get a _job_? That'd be a riot."

"Why don't you shut the fuck up, Sam?" Orland snapped. "Mom's got enough to worry about without you and your spoiled mouth."

"Sod off, Orlando." Sam stood up and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Orlando sighed heavily, then joined his mother on the couch. He took her hand and held it tightly.

"What can I do to help, Mom?" he asked quietly. "You can have my share of the money. I don't need it."

"No." She shook her head and wiped her eyes. "It's your money. You need it, for your band thing. You live in New York and you need it. I'll think of something."

"I'm not worried about the band. Mom, I can't leave you here with all of this to deal with by yourself. I'm your son, and it's my place to help you. I can move back in here for awhile, until things get better for you. I can get a job, help you all I can."

She smiled and squeezed his hand gently. Then she reached out and touched his cheek with her free hand. "I don't tell you enough how proud I am of you. You've grown into such a wonderful young man. But no. I will not let you ruin your life for me. I'll do something. I can sell the house."

"Mom! This is your home!"

"Love, this house is just full of memory. And unfortunately, most of them are bad. I don't need reminders of what I've already lived through. Besides, it's way too big for just one person. I can get a small flat nearer to town. The money from this place should more than pay for any debts your father has and give me something to live on nicely." She smiled. "Don't worry about me. You take your money, and you be a rock star. It's what makes you happy."

*

Orlando glanced at his watch and sighed. It was damn near eleven and Elijah and Dom _still_ weren't back.

"Where in the hell are those two?" Orlando asked, throwing his head back against the couch cushion. He felt Billy's hand patting his arm lightly.

"Knowing them? They may have gotten lost."

"Or deported," Orlando replied.

"We did not get fucking deported," Dom said as he walked in the room with Elijah in tow. Orlando opened his eyes and sat up, glaring at them. "And don't glare at me, Orlando Bloom. I've known you too long to be affected by those large, chocolate brown eyes." Dom glanced over at Billy with a smirk, and Orlando felt his face go flush. A quick glance to Billy, who was always blushing a deep scarlet, then Orlando changed the subject.

"We need to talk."

"Am I in trouble?" Dom joked. He plopped down in the large armchair and to Orlando's surprise, grabbed Elijah's hand and pulled him into the chair with him. After a few moments of shifting around each other, they were both settled and appeared quite comfortable. Elijah really was a skinny fucker.

"No." Orlando scooted to the edge of the couch and glanced around the room. Billy to his right, face still slightly pink, waiting patiently. Dom and Elijah, stuffed in an oversized armchair, trying to pretend like they were paying attention but secretly poking each other roughly. Orlando sighed. "I didn't get as much as I thought from my father. But I got enough. And I decided that I want to share it with the three of you, that way we don't have to worry about anything but the band for the next few months. Elijah doesn't have to work at the bar anymore, unless you want to. Dom definitely doesn't have to sell drugs anymore," with that, Orlando turned his attention to Dom and looked at him hard. Dom held his gaze evenly for a few moments, before shrugging. "And Billy," Orlando turned to Billy and looked at him awkwardly, "you never have to go back to a goddamn suit job ever again."

"But Orlando," Billy protested, "this isn't our money. It's _your_ money, from your father. All that's left of your estate or whatever the hell it is you have. We can't take it. Can we?" Billy glanced at Dom and Elijah. Dom appeared to open his mouth, but one death glare from Billy was enough to keep his mouth shut. "Thank you, but no. We'll manage."

"Fucking hell, Billy!" Orlando ran a hand through his messy curls. "Get over your bloody pride and take the money. You’re my family, all I have left. And if we really intend to promote this damn CD and make something of ourselves, you can't be working sixty hour weeks at some cubicle, I can't spend all my nights waiting on fucking yuppies, and Dom can't get into drug fights every few months. That is, if Dom is still in the band." Three pairs of eyes stared at Dom.

Dom rolled his eyes. "Do you really think I'd listen to this shit if I wasn't still in the band? Hell no."

"I'll take that as a yes." Orlando turned back to Billy. "Please Billy. Take the money."

"Please take the fucking money, Billy!" Dom yelled. "What do you really think Orlando is going to do with all that money? Buy hair products?"

Elijah giggled loudly, and Billy finally broke and laughed. Orlando felt relieved.

"Fine. But we owe you."

"You can repay me when we have a gold record."

Orlando got up and turned on the stereo, blasting some new record Elijah had bought earlier that day. He didn't immediately return to the couch. Instead, he stood by the stereo and looked around, and realized how much things looked like they used to. But then he wondered briefly if things would ever be back to normal, because if he was honest with himself, he wouldn't want them the way they had been. Too much had happened and too much had changed in all of them. He'd personally been through more than he'd have liked, but if they went back, then they wouldn't be sitting there in that room together, listening to some random, eclectic indie CD of Elijah's, last night with Billy would never have happened, and Elijah wouldn't be curled around Dom in the same chair while they laughed and flirted shamelessly with each other like they were friends again.

Maybe things weren't the same, and maybe things would never be like they were in New York.

But Orlando figured he was okay with all of that.

-fin  



End file.
